


The bargain

by Zagirad



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Battle for the Cowl, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Batman, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is Red Hood, M/M, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zagirad/pseuds/Zagirad
Summary: “I heard a little bat was looking for me. My time is precious, mortal, so do not waste it”.“I have a trade to offer you, my lady. One I hope will benefit both parts involved”.Dick Grayson has made many mistakes in his life. Now that he has become Batman, it is time to start fixing them.





	1. Chapter 1

DICK  


The shadows in the corridor were alive even through the white lenses of his mask. Dick Grayson tried to ignore their appearance, and their words in his ears as he walked with a relaxed countenance. His training would not fail him here, the confident persona he had created becoming almost indistinguishable from his real self. It was a neat party trick, the shadows, he had to admit. It would drive any innocent bystanders very far away from the house and would also never get reported to any law-abiding authorities, not unless you wanted to explain how a seemingly normal building contained the spirit of your long-lost wife. Dick on the other hand was the opposite of a random onlooker. No, the localization of this particular house he had been after for months. Finally getting an audience was nothing short of a miracle, really, although the former Robin was nothing if not determined when he wanted something. It had not been an easy feat to conceal his search from Oracle, whom even in times of a crisis could be reliable to keep tabs in the bat family business whereabouts, but misdirection and outright lies where also part of his skill set, courtesy of Batman training. He had to admit the cowl also helped with that.  


“I heard a little bat was looking for me. My time is precious, mortal, so do not waste it”.  
The voice was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, as if all the shadows had become a single hive, twisting and turning around him. Dick stood where he was, with practiced nonchalance.  


“I have a trade to offer you, my lady. One I hope will benefit both parts involved”.

DAMIAN  


Being benched sucked. More than that, it made any of his current goals impossibly difficult. Damian had longed for being the Robin on his father’s side for so long, had trained so hard his entire life and somehow things had gone to hell in a hand’s basket. His father, the man his mother had taught him to respect and admire above all things was dead. Gone just a few months after finally having met him. And only remaining were the imposters, Grayson and Drake, who had been enjoying his father’s attention and training in his place during all those years. Damian had just managed to convince Grayson that he would be a better Robin than that pest Drake, dammit! Getting almost killed by Red Hood was certainly a wrench in his plans. He was no child to have to be tended by like an invalid.  


“I bring food, master Wayne. It is time to redress your wounds”  
Alfred stood in the open door, with a tray in his hands, which he left in the side table. Damian thought about acting difficult on purpose, but he really needed to get up and running as soon as possible.  


“Where is Grayson?” his voice sounded petulant, he was aware, but the frustration was about to do him in. The current Batman was out and about, without a Robin no less, whilst he was stuck in the manor, unable to prove his worth and work towards his destiny.  


“He has not come home yet but checked in earlier”. Damian could see Alfred’s pursed lips at these words. “And master Drake is also absent”. Damian huffed.  


“As if I care what the pretender is up to”. Alfred did not reply to that and kept working on changing Damian’s dressings. Red Hood had truly done a number on him, and Damian both felt fury and reluctant admiration. After all, no matter how misguided his delusions were, Todd fought for what he considered his and had been a very effective Batman for a short while. Unlike Grayson, who had to be dragged almost kicking and screaming into accepting the cowl. Damian was trying to reserve his judgement towards the oldest ward of his father though, at least he had agreed to make him Robin for the time being. Society would frown upon a twelve-year-old Batman, after all, but that does not mean he had to accept Grayson’s authority.

JASON  


Today was not a good day, although he was not sure when the last of those had been. The now familiar anxiety had been present since he woke up, thrashing and screaming in his soundproof safe house, and for a while he did not remember who he was. That happened sometimes, when his brain seemed to regress to a previous state, and he was again a zombie in newly remade flesh. Memories of Talia, the pit, Joker and Batman soon came rushing back, a green haze taking over. He knew he had lost time, because he then found himself next in a roof overlooking a train track, and someone screaming bloody murder. Except there was no one there but him, and a few disgruntled pigeons.  


He was clearly losing his mind and he so hated to make Bruce right. Psychiatric help he had the gall to say, leave the vigilante life and get help. Like if he could possibly be fixed, so many years too late. They were all so righteously stupid in that family, letting Gotham burn around them whilst pretending to give a damn. No, this was no time for rest, his brain might be scrambled beyond repair, but his training was better than ever and even if his death remained unavenged, many other deaths could still be prevented. Red Hood got up and surveyed the evening air, the shadows getting longer below his feet. It was time to scare the shit out of some Black Mask associates and coordinate his men to survey the docks. A shipment was expected tonight, and it would be a bloody welcome from him.  


******  


Three hours later, Red Hood was stalking a couple of goons heading to the recently arrived container. His men were stationed around the docks and had pinpointed the suspicious activity taking place under the cover of the night. Jason had no particular plans in mind, other than confiscating the shipment, which he expected to be either drugs or weaponry, and putting a bullet or two in whoever was the middle management. He was pretty sure Black Mask himself would not show up, his brief stint as a killing Batman had unfortunately spooked him and that meant not showing his face around and sending lackeys instead. In his current state of mind, Jason could not say he minded too much, since the man had a talent for recruiting all the scum of the earth. The men he was currently following were certainly looking wary, constantly looking upwards, probably fearing Batman and Robin raining down on their heads. Jason knew the second was not an option and was not looking forward to seeing if the golden boy had decided to man up and finally donned the cowl, as reports seemed to indicate.

Beneath him, the container had been open. Drugs, as he had assumed, were being quickly distributed, he counted around twenty or thirty men to take care of. Signalling to his own men, he adjusted the red helmet and promptly started firing on the closest to him. Mayhem shortly ensued, with Jason shooting mostly to injured, but not being terribly precise about it either. A message needed to be delivered to Black Mask that he was being hunted, after all. His rage and adrenaline were singing inside of him, like a living wire, and screams and shouts alerted him to a second container, where three more men were hiding.

Jason went down on a swing, and entered the room, surprising the mini congregation. In front of him, two little girls, no more than preteens with little clothing, were cowering behind the goons, one with a busted lip and for a moment, he saw red. He was glad there was no lost time for this one, as it usually happened whenever he lost control, the snap of one of the guy’s leg under his hands and his consequent gurgled scream too satisfying to have missed. When he went to look at the final one, a batarang was embedded in the floor in front of him and Batman landed not long after. Jason tried in vain to control his breathing, to reign his control back, and sneer at Nightwing’s new getup but there was screaming in his head again, screaming he then realised was coming from the girl behind him. He twisted to look at her, wondering if there were more men he had missed, but it was him she was trying to get away from, horror etched in her features and a wild look in her eyes.  


“Red Hood. Get away from her”.  


Batman’s modulated voice filtered through his brain, it sounded strained and unnatural to anyone who knew Batman well, but Jason was in no state to appreciate it. He took a few steps back from the girl, taking in the carnage all around him, the second man bleeding out slowly from his stomach. He briefly considered fighting Batman now, but the man was herding the two girls out and calling an ambulance. Jason’s rage was depleted, and as he saw that his men were all safely out of the way, he turned his back on the scene and fled.  


For a moment he though Batman was following him, but then he realized that this was in his head, memories of the last fight flashing through his eyes. Bruce, Dick, the replacement and the demon child all merging together and cutting him down. Jason heard his laughter and saw his smile and then felt the explosion rock over his body again. When he came to, he found himself back in a rooftop, his hands shaking.  


DAMIAN  


Grayson finally came back, and Damian heard him in the stairs, heading to his room. For the sound of his footsteps he could tell he was still wearing Batman’s suit and he heard him go into a different room, the one that was usually closed at the end of the corridor. Damian was not stupid, and knew who the room had belonged to, once upon a time, so he wondered what Grayson was doing in there. Gathering intel? When he did not hear anything else for a long time, he managed to get up and head down the corridor slowly.

His wounds were still a handicap, and he would need at least a week to be back to full health, but everyone in this house underestimated his training and how much pain he could function under. The room was completely silent, and he realised, when he got closer, also empty. The window was ajar, and Damian wondered what had prompted Grayson to leave again, when the time for patrol was over. He dragged himself back to bed after pausing in the stairs, but only silence greeted him. He had never heard the house so quiet.  


DICK  


The sun was not out yet over Gotham when Batman arrived to the meeting point. He had been asking around all the meta network, and this was one of his best chances so far to get the location he wanted.  


“Blood”.  


“Batman. I see rumours of your death were greatly exaggerated”. Dick was sure the other was taunting him but let it slide. This was important, after all.  
“I was told you can get me in contact with her. Is that true?”. Jason Blood smiled, all teeth.  


“Are you sure you know what you are getting into, little bat? What could possibly be worth entertaining deals with her? I just don’t want to be responsible for any rash decision”.  


“My motives are my own. Either help me meet with her or I will keep looking”. Dick was tired and wanted to get back to check on Alfred and Damian, and for a second thought that this meeting was going to be a waste of time, but after a while, Blood nodded.  
“Fair enough. Tomorrow night, be prompt”.  


******  


Dick Grayson left the house with a contract established, trying to remember his previous faith that this was the right thing to do. He was Batman now, as Nightwing he had been the older brother and now he had an even bigger responsibility on his shoulders. He would not fail.


	2. Chapter 2

TIM  


Tim Drake was typing on a laptop warming up his legs when he heard the alarm from the balcony window. His recovery was going well, but not as well as to not create a pang of fear inside him, which he would never admit to. The image of Batman entering through the window was not as reassuring as it should have been either. In his mind, he saw another Batman cruel laugh and his shadow looming over his injured figure until his vision mercifully went black at the edges. Shaking his head, he snapped the laptop shut.  


“I would complain about privacy and not using the front door, but I guess that would be hypocritical of me”. He tried to get up but did not feel able to without grimacing in pain, so he stayed put whilst Batman removed his cowl and blue eyes (not bright green) stared at him.  


“I just wanted to check up on you, Alfred mentioned you had left the manor”. Dick looked like he wanted to say more, but uncharacteristically of him was showing some restrain.  


“What can I say, I needed time for myself. How is Alfred doing?”. The Damian shaped elephant was hanging all over the room, but Dick allowed the change in topic.  


“He is … as well as can be expected. Making arrangements, looking over … preparations”. Tim knew Dick was as unable as him to deal with Bruce’s absence, and would happily leave Alfred to deal with any contingency plans for this exact same situation, which if he ever knew Bruce Wayne at all, would be numerous and incredibly detailed. Old paranoid bastard. Drake would feel a bit guilty, had he not suspected there was definitely something amiss about the whole situation. His silence must have alerted Dick as to his thoughts, since he sat by the bed and put on his patented older brother placating face.  


“Tim… I understand this is a very difficult time for you, for all of us, plus you are still injured. I know Bruce was not your genetic father, but he might as well have been for all of these years…”  


“He is not my genetic father”. Truth to be told, Tim was not ready from this conversation, not when he still had not manage to do the thorough research he wanted. And he was so tired, but even then it made perfect sense in his brain. Bruce Wayne was not dead. And Tim Drake never ignored his brain.  


“… I understand why you might feel this way”. Dick was still sprouting platitudes, but his eyes were firm and his whole demeanor closed off and Tim suddenly felt anger.  


“Why are you here? I thought you would be busy at the manor, you know, patients to look after, Robins to train”. It sounded bitter, he knew, but he could not stop himself. Bruce might not be dead, but he was certainly gone, and his older brother had decided there were more important priorities than him. Tim prided himself in being level headed and rational, but he was also seventeen, and had just survived a very traumatic event. So sue him for being bitter.  


“I was hoping you would come back with me. To the manor, where Alfred can look you over”. Tim again noted how Dick’s face held less expression than usual, even if his posture was tight, and wondered if being Batman was not starting to rub off him. As a child, Tim had not known a lot of familial affection, with his parents always away and the constant stream of nannies. Bruce had not been a big change in that department, but Dick certainly was. Nightwing had always been there whenever Robin needed anything, and not just related to their line of work. At times it had felt suffocating, like he could not escape far from his watch, even a city apart. Nightwing would visit, always run interference with Bruce and overall insert himself as a dependable presence in Tim’s life, one he had learned to count on very early as Robin. But he was not Robin anymore.  


“I think I will stay here. I can always call the Titans if I need anything, plus I have lots of work to do”. There. That sounded reasonable and not sullen at all. Or so he hoped.  


There was a silence after that. Tim wondered whether Dick would insist, whether he wanted Dick to insist and reassure him, explain again his reasoning for putting Damian first, for giving him Robin when it was Tim’s to lose. His head hurt just thinking about it and he realized he was not ready for that conversation. After all, he was practically an adult, Damian was a child. A demon spawn intent on murder and mayhem sure, but still just a child. And with Wayne blood no less. No wonder Dick’s mother hen instincts had kicked in.  


“I will keep in contact though Oracle” he ended up saying. “And I have been keeping up with the company, there is some restructuring to do now that Bruce is not available”. Dick did not say anything to that particular bit. “Nothing too serious, Wayne Industries really does not need him to run.”  


Dick stood up and after a brief press on his shoulder, went to put on the cowl.  


“Take care, Tim. Please call if you need anything”. He left the same way he had arrived, and Tim was glad to be treated like an adult, to be considered an equal. He was.  


He also did not feel guilty about his plans to research Bruce’s whereabouts, he would be fully recovered soon and would be making a trip out of Gotham. He now had no pressing obligations here, after all.  


JASON  


The days after the botched raid in the harbor blurred into each other. Sometimes Jason would stay inside one of his safe houses, and feel the walls closing in, through feverish planning on how to take more of the drug market out of Black Mask’s hands. Other times, when the itch for violence consumed him, Red Hood would go out and look for some low-life or other to beat the shit out to. One never needed to look very far, in Gotham. If he got lucky, a rapist or even better a child molester. Those were the best of the bunch, whenever he put an end to one of those utter bastards, he would feel something other than pure unadulterated rage. Validation, maybe. He kind of missed wearing Batman’s uniform, if only for the element of surprise it afforded him back then. Everyone knew to expect the worst of Red Hood, which was also satisfying in his own way.  


Jason kept on losing time, here and there, sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes a few hours. And his dreams kept on playing the biggest hits of this past, on repeat, but what else was new. He often wondered what was real and not, specially after he did not see Robin for a while. He remembered the blood of the replacement all over the pavement, and his blue lips (was that real?). But then again, Batman had not killed him yet, and surely, he would have if he had ended Robin for good, or permanently maim him. He had certainly not meant to do that or had he. The night at Titan’s tower was a blur in his head and the details all fuzzy. He had a much more vivid memory of his fight against the little brat, Talia and Bruce son, his eyes were so similar to hers, he had been blindsided by them at the time. But he was almost sure that he had survived too. Or else Talia would have already payed him a visit, a lot earlier than Batman. Talia protected her own, and he was no longer anything of hers.  


Finding the brat again, dressed as Robin, was ironic then. The kid was fighting a group of goons in a rooftop.  


“I see Batman keeps finding them younger and younger, midget. Are you that desperate to die? Did the lesson not take the first time around?”  


“Don’t patronize me, you just got lucky the first time around. At least with me, I hear you took a tumble down a train. But like a cockroach, you are back”. Red Hood did not entertain the though of Robin fighting alone and sure enough, the tell-tale sound of Batman’s cape could be heard.  


“Stay out of this Red Hood, it is handled”. Golden Boy was certainly getting better at the Batman business, he could almost pass for the real thing now, and Jason hated him more than ever in consequence. If before he had already made little distinction between his hatred towards Bruce and the strong animosity towards the older Robin, now both feelings had blended together.  


“If you don’t want me to put another bullet into Robin here, you would go. This city does not need Batman and certainly does not need you”. Jason greeted his teeth and tried to stop the familiar green haze from taking over, but it was oh so tempting, with Batman there. He tried to rush him to the ground and stab him with his knives when he twisted around, the Batman uniform somewhat clashing with Dick’s traditional acrobatic movements. Batman kept avoiding him and Jason grew annoyed, so he took a cheap shot at Robin when his back was turned instead. Batman deflected it, with his armored arm, but Jason could tell it had grazed him, for he flinched minutely. The goons were mostly taken care of by Robin, while he had been fighting Batman, so he was not surprised when Batman ordered Robin to retreat.  


“And leave him free? No way in hell!” Robin was sneering at Jason, with all the fury a little baby psychopath could muster, he observed, but ended up following Batman’s lead when he left for the next rooftop. He certainly acted like a little soldier, Talia must be proud. Jason was considering whether to go after Batman again, now that he was wounded, when a new figure arrived in his field of view. A woman, if he was not mistaken, wearing quite a strange body armor.  


“Jason Todd, if I am not mistaken. How fortuitous to finally make your acquittance”.  


Jason stared for a few seconds, convinced he had finally lost his mind, for the woman in front of him had her body entirely covered in gold plating, and a purple cape to top it all. Soon enough, he recovered and pointed his gun at her.  


“That depends in who is asking, lady. I do not think I have heard of you”.  


“Oh… you have, I am sure. But that is not the point, I have come to talk business with you. Your work as Red Hood has come highly recommended to my attention”.  


Jason blinked rapidly but could not remember ever having seen the mysterious woman before. But of course, the state of his memories being what they were, he guessed that did not mean much.  


“I do not talk to anyone without a name, lady”. The woman smiled, and her aura was magnetic, Jason could not keep his attention off her even if he wanted to.  


“You can call me Morgan”.


	3. Chapter 3

DAMIAN  


Damian was seething following Batman through the rooftops. Red Hood had been just there, and they had let go a perfectly good opportunity of making him pay for all his crimes. He longed for paying him back for almost killing him, not death, because people here were soft, Damian could hardly believe it when his mother had told him, but he knew things were different than in the League. And Grayson certainly seemed even more misguided than father had been in that account. Would Bruce have let things go, tonight? Robin was not sure, it was not like he had had any time to get to know him.  


“Grayson!” He demanded as soon as they reached the cave. “We could have apprehended him tonight, send him to Arkham to stew with the rest of the freaks.”  
Cowl off, his father’s ward looked very tense, and the look he sent him was severe.  


“Red Hood is dangerous, I don’t want you engaging with him, or questioning my decisions. We had our objective tonight, and he was not part of it.”  


“If this is about lethal force, I know what is expected of me, I have been following all your rules”. Damian felt so frustrated, he was trying so hard to be Robin, to adapt his assassin training to the new mission parameters, to not maim unnecessarily, to not always used the most expedient way available. But Grayson was clearly not happy with his performance, had stopped him from doing his job tonight. A small tendril of panic was blooming in his chest, his place here was already so tenuous.  


“Dami, look at me.” Grayson’s voice cut to the fog, a lot softer than before. “You have been doing great, this has nothing to do with you, ok?” The gloves and cape were off as well, and Grayson was crouching in front of him. “I am very glad that you have my back”.  


There was that nickname again. Grayson had started to use it just a few weeks after meeting him, which he initially found demeaning and patronizing. He had now realized that there were very few people in his life Grayson had no nickname for. Babs, Al, Timmy… none of the others seemed to resent theirs in the slightest. Damian had been brought up to always use the full name of your allies, that is how you show them respect, and he had learned to despise the multitude of new names he kept hearing in Gotham. Brat, demon spawn, demon child… no one in the League would have dared call him any of that. Not without repercussions.  


“What are your plans then? To deal with Red Hood?” There, a direct question might shed some more light on the issue. Grayson, however, looked away and got up.  


“I have not decided yet, since it is not a priority, so for now the rule is stay as clear as you can and do not engage if you can avoid it. I will let you know as soon as that changes, ok?”  


Damian considered this. It was quite vague, not a priority, he kind of agreed, but then Red Hood was always making a nuisance of himself and attacking Batman at the minimum provocation. Real or imagined. He had impersonated Batman, impersonated Nightwing if the files in the cave were accurate and broken their main rule over and over, what with wearing guns and killing criminals. He had almost killed the imposter Robin as well, and Damian remembered very well Grayson’s reaction that night. His rage and the subsequent fight had been worthy of the Batman mantle.  


But he did not look angry now. As he went upstairs and heard him talk quietly to the butler, Damian reflected that Grayson was a lot harder to read since he had become Batman, and a lot more serious. Which could only be a good thing, of course.  


DICK  


Alfred looked up from the counter, to see Dick staring at the window in silence. It was still fully dark outside, they were home early.  


“Will you be going out again tonight, master Grayson?”. Dick sighed and replied softly.  


“Yes, as soon as Damian is asleep. Please do not let him know”.  


“Of course not, I understand you want him to spend less time patrolling and more sleeping. As it should be, he is still so young”. Alfred was so vehement at that, Dick smiled softly in return.  


“He would not take that as a kindness.” The butler said nothing to that, but then continued, in a different tone.  


“Master Drake has not been answering my calls, master Grayson. I presume he intends to stay in the penthouse for a while longer?”  


Tim. Dick tried to remind himself that there had been only bad choices available, but logic did not reassure him in this case.  


“I don’t know Alfred. I went to see him, but he does not want to be around me, or Damian. And I cannot say I blame him. I wish I knew what to do”. After that admission, Dick felt Alfred coming closer, and he sounded more weary than usual.  


“You are blaming yourself. Tim is upset for the loss of his father. Last time he was here he asked me how I could be acting like if Bruce was dead when he was not”.  


“I am aware. Tim believes that he is still alive. Nothing I said changed his mind. And he … he resents my choices. He misses Robin”.  


“He misses Bruce. And misses the purpose he felt at being Robin. It is regrettable that both things happened in succession.”  


“I know”. Dick’s voice was now a mere whisper. “I thought he was ready to move on from Robin, but I would have never forced the issue, especially not then. I just wanted to keep Damian here, he had already packed to go back to the league. I could not let that happen”.  


“Have you told him, all of this?”.  


“Not in so many words. I was hoping we could talk more in a few days, let him some time to recover before we do”. He turned around and let out a brittle smile. “I should be going, Alfred. Thanks for taking Damian to school”.  


“No thanks are needed, master Grayson, take care of yourself”. And with a mechanical nod, Dick left the room.  


BARBARA  


Oracle was still awake when the call got through, just looking up some reports from the latest Arkham’s admissions.  


“Spoiler to Oracle”.  


“Come in, spoiler. Anything urgent to report?”  


“I am assuming this line is as secure as you can make it?” Steph was speaking softly and Barbara suddenly felt very awake.  


“Yes, it is. What is going on”. Steph sighed.  


“It’s… Robin.” Oracle realized immediately this was not about the youngest Wayne. “There is … there is nothing wrong, he is still at the penthouse last we talked, all good”. She put that out quickly, to not scare Barbara. They have had quite a few rough months in Gotham this year, after all. And Steph still remember Oracle calling her about Tim being attacked in Titan’s tower. “He is just… he is absolutely convinced B is still out there. And it’s not that I do not believe him, Robin is one of the smartest people I know. But there is no proof of this, and he still takes it as fact. I am afraid… he will be leaving soon, to try to find him. Alone. He mentioned the possibility to me and told me to not let anyone know.”  


“Spoiler, thank you for letting me know, you are doing the right thing”.  


“Excuse me, but you don’t know that”. Steph sounded tense and frustrated. “I am not reporting on him to Batman, I could have called him myself to tell him. I am telling you because I need to know if there is any weight behind Robin’s theory, if there is any proof that B might not be gone. Because you would be the person to know if there was”.  


“There is no proof that I have been able to find, I am afraid, and you can bet I have looked at it”.  


“You have been wrong before”. Oracle inhaled sharply, more for the sudden reminder of Jason’s death and grief that followed, than for the slight to her abilities.  


“And I would love to be wrong now, have no doubt. But I was not who I am now then and had not the same resources. All I am saying is that this is Gotham and everything is possible, but there is no rational evidence behind Robin’s theory. He would have laid it out if there was. Spoiler, I know you did not call to report to Batman, but I think Batman needs to know”. There was a brief silence and then:  


“I understand. Spoiler out”.  


JASON  


Jason knocked on the wooden door, trying to hide how apprehensive he felt. The strange lady had given him an address in the outskirts of Gotham. To have a conversation upon matters of mutual interest, she said. The main reason he was there, one day later was because she knew his name. He was technically dead and very few people, apart from the bats, knew that fact. His first thought was she knew him through Talia, she was clearly foreign, with an accent Jason could not place and emanated power. Plus, Jason’s memories of his time in the League were hazy. In any case, his curiosity was picked and therefore there he was. Waiting outside of an unassuming red brick house. When the door finally opened, the same woman from the night before stood before him, still waiting the same weird armor.  


“Hello Jason, very glad to see you”. Jason coughed, slightly thrown by the familiarity, but somehow did not feel the need to reply with rudeness. Most likely because it was a woman, he thought.  


“Lady Morgan”. He followed her through a long corridor and arrived into a big parlor, where she sat on a large divan.  


“Please have a seat, we have much to discuss, I hope”. She pointed to the sofa opposite and Jason sit down, still feeling out of kilter. A glass of water materialized in the table in front of him, making him wonder why again he had decided to come. Alone and unprepared, into the lair of some meta.  


“So, what is it your thing? Telekinesis? Teletransportation? Alien from another planet? Just beware metas are not usually welcomed in Gotham, you know, super important bat rules.” He rolled his eyes. “Or else you are a member of the big superhero club of theirs, in which case I feel I should have heard about you. I guess you could be and now be wearing this… costume”.  


“I am not a member of any superhero club. And I have never been referred to as a meta, either. You could call me a sorceress, or an enchantress, whatever it is more familiar”. Her metallic face was not leaving anything out for interpretation and Jason had not had enough encounters with magic users to be “familiar” about anything. The only magic users he knew were Zatanna, Constantine, Raven… all people he usually stayed clear off.  


“What is it you want from me? A sorceress would not have any need of Red Hood.”  


“And that is where you would be wrong. Let me show you something”. She got up without making any noise and Jason wondered if she was indeed wearing an armour or if her skin was, well, gold. She came back with a painting, of a young woman with dark hair in a red dress, and put it on the table, carefully.  


“I am out of time, out of place and you could say out of body, right now. I want your help to regain the life I lost, in return for that what you most desire”. She said this in such an event tone, that Jason was almost convinced that this was a normal conversation.  


“Wait a second. Assuming all of this is true and that I can somehow help you with any of it, what is this “what I most desire” business? Do I just say something, and you make it happen?”  


Lady Morgan stared at him, head cocked slightly to one side.  


“I thought this is what I said, yes, was it unclear? You must have had some encounters with magic before, have you not? Magic is energy, and it can be traded in a contract, which we would both have to agree to for it to be binding. Or is it magic that you do not believe in?”  


His day was just getting weirder and weirder, but Jason did believe in magic. Or maybe “believe” and “magic” were not the right words. He was aware of weird shit happening, all the time, himself and his current breathing capabilities being proof number one. There were plenty of metas out there doing stuff outside of the laws of physics, most of them born in this planet, so no alien excuses. And you did not need to believe in any of it for it to happen and have consequences. Beliefs were for the religious fools, not that it changed anything for them either.  


“I believe in nothing, lady. Or if I do, I believe in what I can do with my own two hands, which is mostly destruction and death. I assume this is what you are looking from me? Unless I am having a very bad day, I usually need a good reason to wreak havoc. And I don’t see how that would solve your predicaments.”  


“You can help me Jason Todd, in fact I have seen that you are the only one who can. I don’t want any commitments from you, other than your willingness to help me restore to my body in my own time. That is the single thing my contract would entail”.  


Jason scoffed, in disbelief, and considered getting up and leaving. There was no way that this was it, there had to be some play and he would be signing away his will or his soul or whatever. However, he could get anything he wanted from her, as well. His state of mind being what it was the moment, he could not come up with a single most important desire, after all, Bruce was not available to kill the Joker anymore. But if this encounter had happened before, things would have been different, he would have gotten his just revenge. And he had so many plans to get revenge, so many different thoughts that had consumed his brain for months, why disregard such an opportunity, even if there was a risk. The crazy sorceress would most likely choke on his soul, anyway.  


“Keep talking”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is another one. I am having some plot issues at the moment, but do not really have anyone to discuss with, so we will see when the next update will materialize. Any feedback would be super helpful!

**Author's Note:**

> First fic so would love any constructive criticism. No beta, any mistakes my own (English not my first language). Also not sure how formatting works yet.
> 
> Mostly playing fast and loose with canon and with characters I know little about, but felt inspired after reading so many wonderful fics in here. Will try to update once a week :)


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